Homeward Bound
by Winchesteralism
Summary: The dance back to 'ok' was a slow one. A slow, fumbling, uneven, back and forth rhythmless waltz that may just end with them returning to a common landing. And if all the cards are played right, they might even find themselves on higher ground. Sequel to "I Walk This Lonely Road." Or the story in which two years have passed yet nothing has changed for either.
1. Skinny Love

**Homeward Bound**

.

_And I told you to be patient_  
_And I told you to be fine_  
_And I told you to be balanced_  
_And I told you to be kind_

_And now all your love is wasted_  
_And then who the hell was I?_  
_And I'm breaking at the britches_  
_And at the end of all your lines_

**_._**

* * *

OK GUYS IT'S OFFICIALLY A GO. THE SEQUEL TO _I WALK THIS LONELY ROAD._ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IF I'D DEFINITELY GO READ IT NOW AND IF YOU HAVE I'D RE-READ IT SO EVERYTHING IS ALL BRAND SPANKIN FRESH IN YOUR BRAIN SO THIS WILL MAKE AS MUCH SENSE AS POSSIBLE.

I REALLY HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT.

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO~ THE STORY.


	2. An Accordance

"Cas"

_Just don't, Sam. You said you'd respect my decision. Now please refrain from whatever it is you want to say so we can get started._

"Of course, Cas. I just-"

_Good. So you are prepared to relearn how to hunt with me, yes? Many things are going to be different and some things are going to be required of you that you are not used to._

"Dude I know. I've read your emails. And did my research. It's not going to be something I have a problem with."

And you are well versed in American Sign Language?

"I'm kind of talking to you right now."

Cas huffed out an annoyed breath.

_I am aware. Can you reproduce it should a situation be compromised and speech is not an option?_

_... Yes I can sign. Jess and I took a course at Stanford. It didn't take incredibly long for me to relearn it._

_Good. Then we have an agreement? Every so often you'll help me on a hunt?_

"Cas man, I've been trying to reach you for the better part of two years. I'll take what I can get."

Cas bowed his head.

_You promised in writing that we wouldn't address this-_

"Are you ever going to talk to him!?" Sam blurted out.

_SAM!_ Cas signed sporadically, clearly upset as seen through the quick jerky movements of his hands.

_What goes on between your brother and I is none of your concern. If it is to be an issue then you are not required to be here and are free to walk away. If that is not the case, there is a wendigo currently amassing quite the kill record in Maryland, and I would appreciate the help flushing it out. However, if you are unable to be of service due to the incompatibility of the arrangement I understand and will adapt accordingly. You knew the rules before we agreed to meet up. You best respect our terms and respect me._

"Sorry, man." Sam mumbled, clearly reprimanded. "I didn't mean to… whatever. Let's kill this thing before anyone else gets hurt."

A small half smile flitted across Cas' features- one that looked uneven and ill-fitting; almost like an old prosthetic. It appeared to Sam as if it hadn't been worn in a long time and no longer fit seamlessly or comfortably. The thought bugged him even more then he thought it would.

_Then we are in accordance_

* * *

So some simple housekeeping. Whenever Cas talks; or really anyone signs, it's going to be in italics. I will do my very best to make it obvious who is talking if there is direct signing back and forth. If it is ever confusing~ hit me up so I can adjust they story so it makes more sense.

SO WHAT DID YOU THINK? Where do you think this is going? Haha, I'd love to hear it. Until next time!

~Magnolia


	3. Silhouette

Dean sat impatiently, on the motel bed, drumming his fingers repeatedly against his knee. Sam skipped out three days ago to, "help one of Garth's contacts on a hunt" and would be back to meet up at the _Greenbury Motel_ on Thursday.

It was Thursday.

We'll call him an entitled but 2:30 in the morning in no shape form or fashion counted as morning. In fact- it didn't even count as Thursday anymore. It didn't help matters that the man-child wouldn't answer any of his phone call. Or really any of the seventeen.

Honestly, he felt pretty damn justified in his annoyance, especially as he was forced to play the role of the ditchable prom date in this crappy lifetime show.

When twenty minutes passed and nothing had changed; Dean resolutely set the stopwatch on his phone. Thirty minutes- he's give the overgrown moose thirty minutes to drag his sorry as through the door before he was calling Garth and demanding answers.

Seventeen minutes and forty-seven seconds into the ultimatum, a text pinged on his cell.

_[Samsquatch: Got caught up. Will be arriving within the hour.]_

Officially pissed _and_ annoyed, Dean opened his phone and jabbed the redial button. Waiting with rapidly diminishing patience, Dean practically vibrated with the amount of shit he was going to give his brother when he picked up.

The call continued to ring out.

Stand corrected. _If_ he picks up.

_ring….ring.,..ring…_

_[It's Sam. Leave me a message.]_

_[I'm sorry, your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message system, _Sam_, is not available. At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished, you can hang up- or press 'one' for more options.]_

'The little bitch!'

Snapping his phone shut, Dean was all set to send a message _clearly _stating how he felt about Sam when another text came through.

_[Samsquatch: Apologies. Can't call at the moment.]_

Dean felt the vein in his forehead throb (with righteous fury).

_[Dean: ?! Where the fuck have you been!?]_

Several minutes later- a text came through.

_[Samsquatch: I'll arrive shortly. I can address your concerns then.]_

_[Dean: Damn right we're talking when you get back… (And since when do you talk like you swallowed a dictionary, man? Nobody talks like that except- nobody talks like that.]_

Dean tossed his phone next to him on the bed and flopped back onto the mattress, doing his best to stifle his growing irritation so he wouldn't punch Sam on site.

* * *

Awkwardly tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, Cas stared wide-eyed into the rearview mirror at Sam's unconscious form slumped in the back seat. It hadn't even been a challenging case; a simple poltergeist to take it easy after ganking the wendigo in Maryland, the werewolves in Kentucky, the incubus in Alabama, and the Rawhead in South Carolina.

It had been easy too; an easy-to-find, easy-to-kill, easy to get to, old-fashioned salt and burn. It threw a few chairs around but that was about it. So it should have been obvious then that it all had to go downhill eventually.

As soon as Cas threw the match onto the hairbrush, the house shrieked and rattled, breaking every window and cracking the floor. As well as, as much to Cas' and later (once he wakes up), Sam's dismay; sent the overhanging chandelier crashing down.

"SAM!" Cas attempted to call out, for a moment forgetting himself and his…limitations. The soundless cry went no further than the walls in his own brain, and by the time Sam was alerted to the danger it was too late.

The hundred-something pound light fixture crashed solidly on top of him. Sam instantly buckled and collapsed unceremoniously onto the floor. Cas instantly shot up from where he was crouching and stumbled over to where Sam lay crumpled on the floor.

_~If a person has collapsed, determine if the person is unconscious. Gently prod the victim and shout, "Are you okay?" If there is no response, shout for help. Call 911 or your local emergency number.~_

Shoving the light fixture away, Cas repeatedly pressed Sam's shoulders and face, trying to wake him up. When he remained unresponsive, Cas' eyes widened in alarm, breaking through the hunter prose.

_People who become unconscious do not respond to loud sounds or shaking. They may even stop breathing or their pulse may become faint. This calls for immediate emergency attention. The sooner the person receives emergency first aid, the better his or her outlook will be._

A gash cut across Sam's forehead, stretching from the front of his eyebrow and curving down across his temple. Breathing slowly and trying to keep calm and reasonable, Cas looked around the room before landing on a pair of curtains. Quickly, he ran over to the fabric and ripped a strip of it off and tied it tightly around Sam's head, doing his best to put as much pressure on the wound as possible.

When Sam remained unresponsive, Cas' quickly flashed through every manual he's read on what the signs are and what he needs to do.

_Open the person's airway. Lift up the chin gently with one hand while pushing down on the forehead with the other to tilt the head back. (Do not try to open the airway using a jaw thrust for injured victims. Be sure to employ this head tilt-chin lift for all victims, even if the person is injured.)_

_If the person may have suffered a neck injury, in a diving or automobile accident, for example, open the airway using the chin-lift without tilting the head back. If the airway remains blocked, tilt the head slowly and gently until the airway is open._

Hastily, he pushed up Sam's neck and thrust two of his fingers against Sam's neck against his pulse point and started counting.

Once the airway is open, check to see if the person is breathing.

_Take five to 10 seconds (no more than 10 seconds) to verify normal breathing in an unconscious adult_

As Cas timed, he slowly started to relax somewhat when he found the beat to be continuously steady and unfaltering.

After a few more minutes of making sure he was stable, Cas stood up and set about the cumbrous task of lugging Sam's prone body through the house and fitting his leaden body into the back seat. Breathing heavily from exertion, Cas climbed into the front and eased the car out into the street before taking off down the road.

... ...

_Check again to see if the person is breathing, coughing, or moving. These are signs of positive circulation. If these signs are absent, start CPR until emergency personnel arrive._

Twenty minutes into the drive, Cas swerved onto the side of the road and checked Sam's vitals again. Statistics of cardiac arrest occurring lost after the initial trauma and presence of a pules ran through his head. When he found Sam's pulse to be the same as before, Cas huffed out a sigh of relief. Just as he was about to shut the door and climb back into the front, Cas turned around and fumbled in Sam's pockets before finding his phone. Once his fingers closed around the hard square, he quickly made his way back into the front seat and pulled back onto the road.

From there, he felt for the raised button and held down, powering the device back on. Once the screen lit up and reached the home screen, Cas immediately cringed at the medley of shrill notifications ringing through the enclosed space as a tribute to all the missed calls and unread texts. Gingerly lifting the device, Cas opened it up to view the menu. Cas' dismay continuously mounted as he scrolled through all seventeen of Dean's missed calls. With heightening trepidation, Cas worked his way through all the messages, each one more and more angry then the last. Finally, Cas reached the most recent of the texts and froze, reading Dean's threat to call Garth if 'Sam' didn't respond within half an hour. Knowing full well that Dean would follow through on that threat, Cas swallowed thickly and tried not to think of the consequences that would occur if that happened. He was more than aware that San was most certainly not helping a friend of Garth's, and that Sam would have a nigh impossible time of explaining his way out of it.

Cas' throat constricted, and very carefully he checked the time stamp on the message.

_[Ken Doll: Ok listen up. You have thirty minutes before I'm gonna have to go all recon on your ass and call Garth. Figure out your shit or this may get ugly.]_

_[Received: 15 min ago]_

Shakily, Cas released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and slowly typed out a response.

_[Sam: Got caught up. Will be arriving within the hour]_

After reading over the text, Cas sent if off and set the phone down on the chair across from him. Turning his full attention back to the wheel, Cas inched his foot down harder on the pedal and watched as the dial slowly increased on the speedometer.

Slowly, Cas started relaxing into the seat, feeling his limbs going thick and heavy from lack of sleep. Blinking rapidly, Cas rubbed his eyes and deliberately set his hands at 10 and 2.

Five seconds later, the phone lit up the darkened car and started to ring, sending curls of noise reverberating through the confined space of the car. Looking at the phone fearfully, it was all Cas could do to stare helplessly at the photo-id on the screen. It was unremarkable; really, a rather unflattering picture of Dean mid-bite in some diner- but there he was. Barely a screen touch away from being right there in the car with him. Shocked motionless, it was all he could do to keep the car from wavering out of the two lines. He took solace in the simple task, which was admittedly suddenly harder than it had been, while simultaneously trying to avoid an imminent breakdown.

The ringing was never ending, and Cas could feel a bead of sweat make its way down his spine and collect in a pool at the dip of his back.

Finally, in what had to have been years later, the ringing stopped.

Silence

Cas coughed violently, suddenly rebelling to the lack of oxygen that burned his lungs. Once he had recovered somewhat, Cas reached over into the passenger seat and took up the phone and composed a message.

_[Sam: Apologies. I can't call at the moment.]_

Before he could even set the phone down, a message came through.

_[Ken Doll: Where the fuck have you been!?]_

Cringing, Cas shot a look to the back begging for some kind of guidance from Sam. When none came forth, Cas gulped and sent out a cryptic-

_[Cas: I'll arrive shortly. I can address your concerns then.]_

Seconds later, Dean's reply flashed across the screen.

_[Ken Doll: Damn right we're talking when you get back… (And since when do you talk like you swallowed a dictionary, man? Nobody talks like that except- nobody talks like that.]_

Coughing awkwardly, Cas let the phone drop into his lap and focused on the road, not having a suitable response. Resolutely, he pressed harder on the gas and watched the world fly by.

... ...

Forty minutes later, Cas pulled into the darkened motel lot. Pulling into a spot in close to the entrance, he got out and opened the side door. Panicking slightly once he realized that there was no way Sam was going to spontaneously get up and be able to make it inside on his own like always. He didn't even know which motel room he was in. Growing frustrated, Cas lightly hit the side of his face and chest, willing Sam to respond.

Panicking over the ridiculousness and impossibility of the situation, Cas grabbed Sam's phone and with fumbling fingers scrolled through Sam's messages with Dean; praying for something that would tell him what room number to go to.

One of the texts was just as simple and cryptic as he would have hoped.

_[Ken Doll: GM 117]_

Glancing up at the dilapidated sign, Cas almost sobbed in relief when he confirmed the name, 'Greenbury Motel'. Hefting Sam up; Cas awkwardly made his way over to the door, stopping continuously to adjust his hold on the youngest Winchester and catch his breath. Finally, once he had Sam to the door of the room; he did his best to quietly lower Sam to the floor, not wanting to alert Dean to open the door prematurely.

Looking over at his friend one more time, Cas quickly ran back to the car to grab Sam's gear and placed it next to him on the ground. Deciding he would text Sam in the morning, Cas steeled himself before knocking heavily on the door thrice. One last time, Cas shot Sam a mournful glance before taking off down the parking lot to his car, not stopping until he was behind the wheel and pulling out of the lot; fighting the urge to look back.

Cas gave in, looking through the mirror to see a shadowed form leaning over the threshold to the room, one both hands firmly around his brother.

_Dean_

Dean was looking around the lot, swiveling his head around until his gaze latched on to Cas' dark car pulling away.

Cas felt as if the air was punched out of him and immediately averted his eyes and stepped on the gas; disappearing around the corner.

_Too close_

_That had been too close_

* * *

**yAY for plot progress, yes?**

**edit: ff went nuts and deleted this chapter? Sorry for the re-upload**

**~Magnolia**


	4. 2 Years Coming

Dean knew Sam was up to something. Neither of them were fans of working with other hunters, in fact it was something they both went out of their way to avoid. So when Sam started getting all buddy-buddy with some hunter only known as "Garth's contacts" Dean knew something was off. And then when once in a blue moon hunts turned into approximately once a month, Dean felt like he deserved some answers.

It didn't help that whoever this girl was she couldn't be trusted, especially after the stunt she pulled 4 months ago. Who else would just dump an unconscious person in front of a door and hightail it out of there? Clearly whomever Sam was working with was bad news. A Ruby 3.0. And frankly, that was not a game Dean was going to play again. Next time Sam showed up the mammoth was going to talk, he was going to meet this she-devil and hash it out before anymore time went on.

Grumbling, Dean dumped his barely touched coffee down the drain before going over to the library. He might as well start on translating those Sanskrit texts before he talked himself out of it. Heavily, Dean set off down the hallways and paused against the doorframe when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

_[Samsquatch: Do you have a first aid kit available.]_

Looking up, Dean wasn't quite sure how to respond.

_[Dean: Yes?]_

Waiting for the response should not be this nerve wracking.

_[Samsquatch: Set it up. Have bandages ready. Sam is hurt.]_

Dean's heart stopped beating

_[Dean: drive fast]_

_[Samsquatch: 10 minutes]_

Dean slammed his phone shut and quickly set about gathering the kit and collecting everything else he could possibly need. Antiseptics, alcohol, needle and thread, water, towels, and a wide range of other tools. As the second hand slowly moved around the clockface, Dean cut strips of fabric into long bandages.

In what had to have been an hour later and enough time for Dean to go truly insane, a heavy knock resonated through the bunker. Dean leapt up from the chair and all but ran over to the door. When he pulled it open he spared the person at the door half a second before grabbing at the bottom half of Sam's barely conscious form. Lifting up his legs to begin making their way down the stairs, Dean paused when his head caught up with him and locked his eyes on the person in front of him

Green eyes locked on steeled blue.

_Cas_

Dean let his eyes dart over Cas' face repeatedly; taking in the man he hadn't seen in over two years. His hair was shaggy, falling in sweaty clumps over his eyes and grime and dried blood covered his face and neck. His frame was also larger, more built than he had ever seen it. Shock kept him from moving and it wasn't until Sam groaned and Cas huffed and worked around him, going down the stairs first and forcing Dean into motion.

"Cas what the f-"

"Dean don't" Sam wheezed through gritted teeth. "He can't talk right now. Hands." He got out.

Mind overloading with just a constant stream on "what the fuck" Dean couldn't function, let alone string a full sentence together. What the fuck did hands have to do with anything? One thing at a time.

"Dude, what happened?"

"Demons," Sam hissed out, trying not to make a noise as they set him on the table. "Only supposed to be two. Four more jumped us."

"Jesus," Dean spit out, "How'd you get out of that one."

Sam laughed shortly, gripping tightly to his leg where blood pooled out steadily. "Cas knows what he's doing."

The mention of Cas brought his attention back to the man on the other side of the table who was laying out the antiseptic and holding up the bottle of peroxide. Not looking at Dean, Cas looked at Dean regretfully and motioned with his hand apologetically.

_This is going to hurt._

Huffing sarcastically, Sam nodded. "Yeah I kinda got that Cas. Do your worst and get it over with."

"What, what did he say?" Dean asked, looking back and forth between the two. Ignoring him, Cas clamped his hand down on Sam's leg to hold it in place and poured the antiseptic over the wound.

Sam through his head back and ground his teeth together. A low pained growl seeped out through his teeth and the vein in his neck popped. His leg jumped underneath Cas' hand, trying to get away from him. One handedly, Cas tried to hold steady to his leg to keep him from moving.

Knowing that one hand wasn't going to cut it, even if Cas clearly had been gaining some serious muscle, Dean reached over and settled his hand firmly alongside Cas' on Sam's leg.

"Hey baby brother calm down. He's done now. Just gonna patch you back up. Hold it together for a bit longer."

"Shutup Dean." Sam groaned out, sweat collecting on his brow. "My shoulder".

"What's wrong with your shoulder?" Movement across from him drew his attention away from Sam. Cas had already started on the stitches and was smoothly drawing the needle through the gaping skin and closing it up neatly. As he tied off the thread, Cas signed something in Sam's direction.

"What's wrong?" Dean repeated, looking over to Sam.

"Cas said it's dislocated and possibly fractured. He wasn't sure on the last part so he wanted you to look at it before trying to move it."

Cringing in sympathy, Dean propped Sam up and gingerly felt along the shoulder. Running his hands lightly over the bone. "Well I've got good news and bad news. Good news is it's not broken, so there's that. Bad news is that this is way out of whack. On the count of three, 1-"

Dean snapped his hand forward, feeling the bone slide back into place.

"Son of a BITCH!" Sam yelled, jerking his body away from Dean. "You're such an asshole!"

"It's payback who's the bitch Sam!" Dean grinned, rubbing his hand over Sam's shoulder regardless. "You should probably ice that later."

"Well right now you should wrap it, jerk." Sam mumbled, trying to get his breathing under control.

"Yeah yeah I'm on it." Dean reached over ad grabbed a few strips of the cloth and started wrapping his shoulder, looping the fabric back and forth until it was secure. When he looked up, Cas had already started wrapping one of Sam's feet.

"What the fuck dude, seriously? What did you do to your foot?"

"I tripped" Sam mumbled, ears turning slightly pink.

"You," Dean snickered, "you did what?"

Sam reached around with his good arm and punched Dean the best he could in the side. "jerk"

Cas signed something in Sam's direction, not looking up from his work. Huffing, Sam said, "yeah, that doesn't really help anything, Cas."

Smiling slightly, Cas continued wrapping his foot.

"See! Cas agrees with me! I bet he said you looked like an idiot." Dean snickered, going over to pour Sam a glass of whiskey.

"No he did not, you ass. He said that it could have happened to anyone."

Cas looked up and raised an eyebrow at Sam.

"He did not!" Dean laughed, doubling over. "You're full of shit, Sam."

Glaring, Sam did not have an adequate response, so instead he grabbed the tumbler from Dean's hands and through it back, relaxing into the amber liquid. Still chuckling quietly, Dean went back into the other room to pour himself a glass.

When Cas finished wrapping his foot, he gently moved Sam's legs over the edge of the table and put his hand on his back, keeping him upright.

"Hey Dean! Help me over to the chair in the living room." Sam called.

"Yeah yeah I'm coming." Dean said, rounding the table. When he put his hand around Sam's waist, Cas let go and backed up. "Up we go yeti, let's move." Heaving Sam up, he leaned heavily on Deans arm and together they slowly moved out of the room. A few steps out, Cas grabbed Sam's arm to catch his attention and signed something quickly.

Sam's smily faded quickly before just as fast rising back up. "Yeah ok, Cas." Looking awkwardly over Sam's shoulder to see what was going on, Dean exasperatly shook his head before asking, "Ok what'd he say?"

"He's uh…" Sam said, swallowing quickly, "just gonna clean up the table while you get me over there."

"Sounds like a plan then." Dean said, nodding, "let's go."

Cas shot Sam a thankful glance before turning back and going over to the table, organizing some of the materials. As he worked, Dean guided Sam slowly into the other room and lowered him unto the chair.

"You do realize you guys have a lot of explaining to do, correct?" Dean said, quietly.

"Dean-" Sam started, already a pleading tone leaking into his voice.

"No. We're doing this now. You and I and Cas are gonna come back in here and you are going to talk. Understood?"

Sam lowered his head, a distinctly guilty look in his eye. Squinting at Sam, the gears in his head started to turn before slowly, dread sunk deep in his gut.

"Unless," he started, looking hard at Sam, "Cas didn't say that he was just going to clean up the table."

Still avoiding eye contact, Sam's eyes darted everywhere but at him.

"Son of a bitch." Rising up, Dean ran out of the room, ignoring Sam yelling after him.

Racing down the hallway and back to the main area, Dean looked around the room, Cas nowhere in sight.

"Son of a bitch! Cas!" Dean yelled, running up the stairs. When he flung the door open and ran a few steps out, Dean just had time to see a car pulling off down the road. In a hasty pile a few feet away from him lay a collection of the rest of Sam's gear.

..

..

Dean slammed two tumblers down on the table in front of Sam and filled the glasses generously, some of the liquid sloshing out and coating the tabe. Lifting one up and settling down in the chair across from him, Dean leveled his eyes on Sam and held his gaze.

"Talk".

* * *

**Ok guys I am so terribly sorry! You've been left waiting forever and I've felt so bad but this was my first year of college classes and things got real so fast and I just didn't have time, and then as time passed I just couldn't get myself to read over my old work to figure out where to start.**  
**Excuses aside, thank you for sticking with me and I promise going in to the new year I will be updating MUCH more regularly.**

**See you all in 2015!**

**~Magnolia**


	5. Two Words that Changed Everything

Breathing heavily, Cas threw down his blade and caught his breath. Next to him, Sam laughed and twisted, stretching his muscles and groaning in pleasure when his back popped satisfyingly.

'_That cleared up easier than expected'_ Cas signed, skeptically.

"Not going to find any complaints here", Sam said, grabbing Cas' angel blade and pushing it into his hands. "Let's dump the vamps and get out of here. Drinks on me."

'_Sam-'_

"Not happening Cas. We just took out 5 vamps with not a scratch on us. That is worth celebration and you've been dogging me for months. We're going out. What do you say?"

Cas considered for a minute before nodding to himself and setting off toward the car.

'_Very well'_

…

At the bar, the two hunters weaved their way over to the tender and waved over two sets of the cheapest beers on tap. When the glasses arrived, Sam took a long pull of the drink before setting in down on the table, visibly relaxing as the liquid made its way through his body.

Cas, following in Sam's lead, sipped a bit of the drink before pulling a face and setting it back down. The acrid taste of the alcohol left a foul taste in his mouth that wouldn't go away no matter what he did.

'_That is disgusting. How can you drink that?'_ Cas signed, almost aghast.

Laughing, Sam took another long drag from his glass. "It's an acquired taste."

'_Well it's not one I ever plan to acquire. I'd prefer to drink something that would not take the place of gasoline if need be.'_

"Can't fault you there. I'll get you something else. Anything in particular?"

Folding his hands in front of him, Cas thought for several moments, before answering, _'I've had a Cape Cod before. It's quite good.'_

"Cranberry and Vodka? Whatever you say, man. I'll be back."

Sam made his way over to the bar and waited in one of the stools. Shortly, before the tender had come back with his drink, a group of girls in what appeared to be a tight assorted mix of pinks and glittery golds swarmed around him and took up all of the surrounding stools. Stilettos went flying as the girls started laughing and kicking up their feet, and one of the girls dragged over a flushed blonde girl with a sash over her shoulder reading, "ENGAGED!"

Cas smiled on bemused at the look of sheer terror on his face before he was dragged off to a makeshift dance floor. Watching on with increased amusement as the girls dragged him across the floor and tried in vain to get him to dance to the rhythm, Cas retrieved his drink from the bartender and sat in the booth, content to just watch as his friend tripped and fumbled through the third playing off a song named "Anaconda", made even better when one of the girls started grinding on him and he turned beet red.

Sometime later, Sam stumbled over to him with his tie askew and neck certainty more flushed than when he had originally left.

Grinning widely, Sam mumbled something about Cosmopolitans before swaying dangerously back and forth. Deciding it was time to go, Cas stood up and put his arm steadily around Sam's frame.

'C'mon Sam. I think it's time we head back'

Sam squinted at Cas' hands before he repeated the words, albeit slower.

"Dude I'm sorry. I have no idea what you're sayin' right now."

Rolling his eyes, Cas started tugging Sam out the door. One his way over, Sam though his head back and grinned at the girls still on the dance floor.

"By guys!" he yelled, greeted in return by a flurry of giggles and kisses blown his way.

Huffing, Cas pushed Sam through the door and guided him over to the car. When they were both settled, Cas thought for a moment about he is always toting around in one form or another an incapacitated Sam, and how a inebriated version is no easier to care for.

Systematically, Cas drove through the winding streets before pulling up in front of the Bunker. Upon arrival, he fished Sam's keys out of his pocket before getting out and circling around the car. Once he had a firm hold on Sam, Cas began making their way toward the door and in the house.

The stairs alone were cause for a major setback and took the greater portion of 10 minutes to just make it down the concrete steps without causing an untimely death for either of them. When they finally made it down the stairs, Cas unceremoniously dumped Sam on the sofa and went to the kitchen to grab a cup of water, an asprin, and a trashcan before lining them up within easy reach.

Happy with his layout, Cas turned to make his way out of the bunker before a voice to the right of him stopped him cold.

"Next time you sneak out to go on a hunt with Cas could you just tell him that-" Dean stepped out of the hallway and halted when he saw Cas standing in front of him, looking like a deer in the headlights.

Shocked, the two just started at one another, neither quite sure what to do or what to say. Neither so much as breathed, before slowly, Dean raised his hands in front of him. Drawn by the movement, Cas finally broke eye contact and stared transfixed at his hands, waiting to see what he would do.

Tentatively, clumsily, the fingers moved around two words.

"Heya Cas," Dean signed.


	6. Very Well

'Dean', Cas signed after several frozen seconds, 'when did you…?'

At a loss for words, Cas dropped his hands and tilted his head to the side, as if trying to gleam the answers from looking at him alone.

Dean stared down at his hands in deep concentration and watched them as he sluggishly tried to sign back. Moving his fingers slowly through several sequences, Cas watched and tried to make sense of what he was saying. Half of the movements weren't words, and the remaining few were broken fragments of sentences that strung together had no meaning. Finally, Dean gave up in exasperation and ran his fingers briskly through the hair at the back of his head.

"Ok so I'm not that good yet. I've only had three weeks to try and get this down, so don't expect miracles out of me just yet, I'm all spent on those at the moment. And you're also going to have to speak, or sign- I don't know man, sorry, really slow and try and deal with me messing up all the time but I'm uh… I'm trying, if that counts for anything." Dean said, a pink flush creeping up his neck and ears.

Trying again, Cas lifted his hands and slowly ran through his question, clearly forming each gesture.

'Why would you do all of this?'

Dean squinted at Cas' hands and tried to work his way back through the motions and try to pair it up with what he had been able to learn in the last few days. When nothing comes to mind, Cas tried again, this time with a much shorter phrase.

'Why learn?"

_Dammit_. Dean had seen these signs before. He could vividly remember seeing these exact signs on a page when he was hunched over an ASL book at three in the morning one night after checking out a towering stack from the library. The rest of the books in the collection had either been stacked hastily against the wall in his room or laid sprawled out on his bed open to various pages with sheets of notes and sticky notes. He could _visualize _the page with the picture and everything, but for the life of him could not picture the word that correlated.

"Shit uh.. I have no idea."

Castiel considered his options for a few moments before coming closer and standing a hair's breadth away from Dean. Reaching out, Cas lifted Dean's hand, holding it palm up. With one hand on Dean's wrist, he used his pointer finger to draw shapes into his hand. Slowly, Dean's brain clicked back online and realized what Cas was doing.

"'W'…'H'… … 'K'? no. 'Y'? 'Y'. Why? Why am I making a fool of myself? Well jeez Cas thanks for the encouragement but-"

Cas silenced him with a glare.

"Why the sign language?" Dean said instead.

Cas nodded.

Dean ran his hand through his hair and looked around the room as if the answer he was looking for were to be found written on a wall in some receding corner of the room. Eventually, Dean made eye contact with Cas before dropping his gaze to their hands, where Cas was still holding his wrist, although at this point it was hard to label as anything but a cradle.

"Because… Sam probably doesn't want to play translator forever."

Cas' hold on his wrist tightened slightly, and even without looking at his face Dean could _hear_ the reprimand in his head.

"I don't know man! Of course I'm going to learn it! I'm not just going to talk to you and have you write each of your responses down or wait for Sam to show up and play translator. I'm going to talk to you! And then I'm gonna be able to understand what you say. Where in this together. Besides, I'm tired of being left out on hunts. Sam here seems to be a magnet for trouble and I for one am done watching him come home barely in one piece. I'm going out and I'm going to go out with you."

When Dean finally dared to look up, Cas took his breath away. A small smile graced his lips and the harsh lines on his face smoothed out, making him appear younger and as if their time apart hadn't even existed.

'Very well, Dean.' Cas signed.

"Hey! I got that one!" Dean yelled, surprise and pride laced together in his tone. Smiling, slightly, Cas nodded his approval.

The two stood as they were, swaying slightly and unsure of what to do next. Eventually, Cas nodded again and turned as if to go before rethinking something and turning back to face Dean.

'You know Dean, you said you wanted to go on a hunt?'

"Hunt- was that last word hunt? Do I want to go on one? Is that what you said?"

Cas inclined his head.

"Yeah man"

With that confirmation, Cas sat down in the chair across form where Sam lay unconscious and picked up one of the sheets of paper and a pen before writing down a quick sentence. When he finished, he swiveled the paper around to face Dean.

'Sam and I were planning on going after a sister vamp nest tomorrow a few towns over from the one we just finished. I don't believe that Sam is in any position to be of any use tomorrow, so if you would like to join me, you are welcome to.'

After reading, Dean looked up- a wide grin on his face.

"Well then let's kill these son's of bitches."

* * *

Ok! So so sorry for these two short chapters, Im going to make it up to y'all by updating twice this week as I have a three day weekend before COLLEGE OH MY GOSH!?

On that note, I'm worried I'm going to get really bad at updating again, as my trig teacher's class average is an F AND THAT IS SO SCARY :'(((

Um but yeah, thank you all for the continued support and encouragement your reviews make me so happy every time and I mean I'll go back and read them and they always put a smile on my face.

As a side treat, I decided I'd share this little gem of what my outline notes start to look like at 3 in the morning:

'INCLUDE A THING WHERE CAS TURNS AWAY BUT THEN IS ALL LIKE YOU KNOW DEAN, YOU WANNA GO ON A DIDDLY LITTLE HUNT WITH ME? AND DEANS ALL LIKE YEAH MY MAIN MON AND CAS IS ALL LIKE WELL SAM CAN'T HANDLE HIS ALCY HOL AND AINT GONZ BE OF ANY GOOD SHIT ON THE HUNT SO IF YOU WANNA KIK HIM TO DA CURB AND STEP IN THEN GO WILD MA BROTHA… AND DEANS ALL LIKE FFFF YEAH AND IT ENDS WITH CAS BEING ALL "LESS GO THEN BITCH." AND THEN SO KICKER MUSIC COMES ON AND THEY PUT ON THEIR SHADES AND TWERK OUT THE DOOR AMEN PEACE BE WITH THE WORLD'

As you can see my outlines are very helpful when I can't even see straight.

Have a good weekend!


	7. Kid Gloves

After the first hunt, it slowly became a regular occurrence. Slowly, the group hunts went from once ever month or so turned in to once every month, to once every two weeks, to once every Friday night. Originally, excluding the exception of the first hunt, Cas would only hunt with Dean if Sam to was there as a buffer. In his defense, he would argue that Dean hadn't mastered sign language yet and therefore was a liability in case of emergencies. And in the beginning that was a valid concern. However, the excuse slowly became less and less sound as Dean became just as fluent in the language as either him or Sam.

Sam, for one, was getting tired of having to handle them both with kid gloves. He had been slowly trying to phase himself out of hunts as his gaze started to linger longer and longer on college transfer applications. Things were quieting down outside. Most of the demons were either dead or back underground, and the angels had all but disappeared from radar. With all the alphas dead thanks to Crowley, the monster population was also under control. In other words, the hunts had turned into the usual ghost and poltergeist salt and burn. And while he knew Dean was going to continue, probably always would, he couldn't. He _missed _being in college and dealing with ordinary people, friends who were untouched by the supernatural and inconceivable grief. He missed staying up all night to study for a midterm in place of pulling an all nighter pouring over some ancient text to find some obscure spell.

But he wouldn't do it. Not until he knew that Dean and Cas were going to be okay and didn't need him to play chaperone every time they had a conversation. Unfortunately for him, the two were taking a lot longer to cooperate then he had originally predicted. Sure, while on a hunt they were practically the extension of the same machine and were just as compatible and good at reading each other than Dean and himself, it's like the switch just turned off the second a hunt was over. They both just turned awkward and didn't even know how to start a conversation. Sam would've been more annoyed if it weren't so disheartening.

So he gave them time. He would go on a hunt with the two of them every time they mentioned one and did his best to try and force the two into exchanging pleasantries in between hunts, but so far it was a no-go. And he was fine with that, it had been October, he wouldn't have to start seriously looking into transferring until around January… except that now it's January. And there still wasn't any progress between the two.

In effect, Sam was getting anxious. It didn't help that there was no reason why they shouldn't be back to normal. Dean was fluent, and Cas was…Cas. And it was so obvious that they both _wanted_ to talk to each other, that was the one piece that didn't make sense. Sam could see every time Dean or Cas would look at the other when he thought no one was looking and he could see them try to start a conversation, but it fail every time. It was exhausting.

As January drew to a close, Sam had had enough. He had fully made up his mind about going back to school, and had already emailed counselors at several universities to see what he needed to do. All he needed was for Dean and Cas to figure whatever their shit happened to be, out.

When Cas sent him a link to another hunt, Sam was done. He sent Cas a reply that he was in and barely had to wait 5 minutes for Dean to show up in the library and yell, "Sammy! We're going on a hunt tomorrow! We got something in Maryland; Cas is going to come over in a couple hours to debrief. Comb your curls and socialize why don't you?"

Sam went along with it, going to the table to talk about the hunt and figure out what they needed to do. He watched and listened and added commentary in here and there and went along with it.

When the Friday came, Sam skipped out the bunker, leaving a note saying he'd meet Dean in Maryland and that he had a few errands to run. A couple hours later, he got a text back from Dean.

_[Ken Doll: Whatever. You never respected my music anyway. See you there bitch.]_

Sam had no intention whatsoever of meeting up in Maryland. He did, however, plan on launching a full pronged attack on the Dean-and-Cas-Unreasonable-Tension Project. He was going to get them collaborating and able to exist in the same room alone if it killed him.

2 hours. Sam waited two more hours until he was supposed to be meeting up with the two of them. When he figured that they were already where they were supposed to meet and would be too late for either to wimp out, Sam called.

"Finally. Where are you? Dude you were supposed to be here like half an hour ago. What's the holdup?"

"Is Cas with you?" Sam asked. He was not about to blow his cover if they weren't even together.

"Uh.. yes? Feel like making an entrance yourself, Cinderella?"

_Oh thank God. Bingo._

"Ok good. I need to tell both of you that I'm not gonna be able to make it. Something came up and I'm going to be stuck until Monday. You two got this covered though, right?"

Sam rushed out. The quicker he got it out, the better.

"What the fuck Sam! What could possibly-"

Sam was not prepared to come up with an answer. Before he could get any further, Sam just rushed out, "Shoot something cam up. I gotta go. Talk to you later!" and promptly hung up.

He really hoped it was worth it because if it didn't go as planned then he was going to be in deep shit when Dean got back.

…

"Sam is going to be in such deep shit when I get back", Dean groused, flipping his phone shut. From the table across the room, Cas looked up, a question clearly written across his face.

"Little Bitch decided to skip out. Said something came up and he's off till Monday. I knew he was hiding something when he disappeared this morning. Guess he left this one to us."

Looking back at Cas, Dean froze at the careful look on his face.

"I mean, if that's good with you. We can just wait until next weekend to take care of this…." Dean trailed off, unsure.

Cas looked at Dean then, wide eyed. 'No, not that's not a good idea. This ghost has killed 3 people already. We don't have the luxury of waiting. We have to take care of this now.'

Dean looked away, admittedly annoyed with Cas' logic. He didn't want Cas to only want to stick around for the job, he wanted him to stick around because it was no big deal, dammit. Dean forced himself to take a deep breath and smile, regardless. This was progress nonetheless.

"Great. Then let's do this."

…

After that hunt, Sam found himself off the hook more often then not. Dean would just run out the door now and then with just a, "See you on Monday, Sammy!" as an afterthought.

Sam started breathing easier and went on with applications, promising himself that he'd tell Dean before he confirmed anything. He just wanted to give him a little more time..

…

Dean was slowly going out of his mind. Sure they now could hunt together without Sam acting like some preschool chaperone, but that was about as far as they got. Whenever they finished a hunt, Cas was gone.

In the beginning, Dean had thought nothing of it. Cas had to go take care of another arrangement, Cas had to go to the store before they closed to stock up, Cas was exhausted so he needed some shut eye. Whatever it was, Cas always ended up having to run off whenever Dean suggested that they go grab a beer or whatever.

Eventually he didn't even bother to come up with an excuse, Cas would just duck out the second he turned his back. It was infuriating. He had no idea what to say or really any idea what had gone wrong in the first place. Whatever it was, he had thought they had gotten over it. That they were cool, but that didn't look like it was the case.

It's reached a point that he wouldn't even try to hide when he ran off, he would just pack up after a hunt, look at him with a sad expression on his face and just walk off. What did that even mean? What was he supposed to take from that? Frankly, Dean was at a loss. Either he needed answers or he needed this weird streak to move on. Lucky for him, that chance came sooner rather than later.

After chasing down a werewolf and ganking it behind some building, Dean and Cas worked their way back to their cars. When they got there, however, Dean let out a slow whistle.

In front of them, Cas' car had fallen sideways, two of the wheels on the right slashed out. There was also a huge string of gashed on the side extending from the trunk all the way up to the mirror.

"And I had just started to like the pimpmobile."

Dean walked around the car, checking for further damage. Once he finished his assessment, he went back around and stood in front of Cas.

"So good news and bad news. The good thing is that there's nothing that can't be fixes. The main stuff shouldn't take longer than a couple of hours and those gashes don't take away much from the function so you should be good with those for a while. Bad news is I can't do anything about those tires right now. You're stuck coming with me."

Cas contemplated his car and looked back at Dean, chewing on his lip slowly.

'And there is no way to take care of this tonight?" Cas signed.

"Dude it's 4 in the morning. I'm beat and good luck finding anyone else to come out at this hour. Just stay in the other room at the bunker and we can take care of this in the morning."

At the mention of the bunker, Cas jerked quickly. 'Dean I don't know if that is wise-'

"Why not, Cas!" Dean exploded, "it's late, I'm tired, you're tired, the bunker is 10 minutes away. Have you checked into a motel yet?"

Cas shook his head minutely.

"Good. Then it's settled, you're coming with me."

Dean turned around and walked over to his car and climbed in, not looking back to see of Cas followed him or not. A few seconds went by, and Dean started to worry if Cas was going to come at all. The following seconds passed as if hours, until finally, Dean heard the unmistakable crunch of gravel before the side door opened and Cas slid primly into the seat next to him.

Smiling to himself, Dean said nothing and started the car, turning onto the road and racing down the path.

When they got to the bunker, Dean and Cas stumbled out of the car, both blinking heavily and trying to keep themselves awake for a few more seconds until they could make it inside.

When they did, Dean walked down the hallway and Cas trailed after him, unsure of what else to do.

Shuffling forward, Dean stopped in front of his door and yawning, gestured to the room across from him. "There you are. Have at it and don't make any loud noises until after 10."

Cas stared at the room with an unrecognizable twist of expression marring his face. Hesitantly, Cas signed. "And this is… the guest room?"

Dean rubbed his eyes and blinked a couple of seconds, trying to properly understand what Cas was saying. When the information sluggishly slid into place in his brain, A small flash of _that should've been your room_ whispered obnoxiously from the corner of his mind that he was well adjusted at telling to _shut up_.

"Yeah man, have at it. Sam's room is down the hall if you need anything. I'm gonna crash."

After getting a response from Cas, Dean slid into his room and threw himself onto the bed and under the blankets, immediately passing out, only leaving enough time to toe off his shoes and shimmy out of his jeans.

…

At around 11, Dean stumbled out of his room and made it over to the kitchen, more than ready to down half a gallon of coffee. When he went into the kitchen, however, Cas was already there at the table, nursing his own cup. When he saw Dean trudge into the room, Cas pushed a steaming mug in Dean's direction.

"Jeez, don't tell me you're a morning person to. What time did you get up?" Dean muttered, falling into the chair next to him.

Smiling softly, Cas signed, "Most days not. I had trouble sleeping last night, after a while I just decided it was best to just get up. As soon as you're free if we could go to fix my car, that would be great."

"Sure sure. Just give me a minute to pack a few things and we can go."

Dean chugged down the last of the coffee and got up to grab his things. After throwing a pair of tires into the trunk of the impala, Dean and Cas drove out to the car.

After 20 minutes and a hundred muffled and shouted swears from Dean, Cas' car was driveable.

Dean however, thought otherwise. "Next weekend you are driving over to the bunker and I am going to fix this thing up. If you are going to insist on driving this disgrace to machinery than it's at least not going to be a permanent death trap. You here me? No more cases until I get this thing fixed."

Cas glared and straightened up from where he was lounging against the impala's side. 'My car is fine. But if you insist on being domineering then I will tolerate it as long as you don't make one more comment on my car'

Dean grinned, "I don't know if I can agree to those terms, but we'll see how it goes. Friday, right Cas?"

Cas nodded. 'Friday'.

* * *

Sorry for not being able to update last weekend, I had the SAT and wasn't gonna risk trying to update. Hope this makes up for it!

\- Magnolia


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